The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1887-05-21
ON HIGH LAND.
Why Would Rather Be There
Than Anywhere Else.

We had been engaged, Mark and |, since
we were babies, so to say; that is, when he
was still in knickerbockers, and just out
of bibs, we had decided that when we grew
up and had a house of our own, it was to be
our own, his and mine, and there we were
to live together and live alone; and if the
chief of our diet there was to be applicants
and butter-scotches. that was our own af-
fair. 1t is thousand pities that it was about
that house that all the rout happened. For
the fact is, | had the strongest sort of will,
and so had Mark; and when it came to the
point, it wasn't that hou Sc at all that
wanted.
For, you see, the spot where lived, down
on the great meadow farms, was my sole
idea of the beauty and pleasantness of the
world. Across the river, with its high bank
crowned with feathery and always tremb-
ling and shining birches, the hills rose, far
and faint and purple vague; but here there
were only the long green levels of grass
fields lying low and even with the river that
filled and sparkled in the reeds along the
edge, and flowed by. us broad and grand on
its way to the sea. And when the sun shone.
and the sky was blue, and the south wind
was softly blowing, one seemed as near
Heaven, living there as it is given one to be
on earth.
There were quite a number of dwelling
houses here, where the corners of several
of the great river farms converged, so that
although their lands stretched out in differ
'ent directions, the buildings clustered to-
gether like village; and we always came
and went freely in each others houses, and
knew each others concerns, and were more
like one large family than strangers; and l
loved my neighbors every one, and didn't
want to go away from them. And when it
came to the question of marrying and going
away, | was simply determined that
. wouldn't go away, but that Mark should
come down to this little garden of Eden,
where l knew every tint of the ripe grass
on the meadow, every sparkle of the water,
every fleece of cloud upon the blue of
heaven.
"And why not, Mark?" l urged ''Here
is this immense farm, a really great prop
erty, and would you leave it to take care of
itself and we go to live two miles away on
your fathers place, that bleak, lonesome
rock up in the air, shut in by pine forest,
like great fortress-a prison, a real dun
geon?"
at isn't prison to me-" said Mark 'It
is the brightest spot in the world-it would
be if you were in it, Man, My real name
is Pamela; but that is the way people always
used me.
'And no neighbors there" exclaimed
'''nobody to run in Of an evening, nobody tC
talk to over the garden wall, nobody tC
borrow of, nobody to show your new things
to, nobody if you're sick. One might as
well be buried alive. always thought So
II should want nobody but you, Nan, il
we were married and that was our home
1twould be simply paradise"
at wouldn't be paradise to me without
any water to see. never liked the verse
in the Bible about there being no more sea
Pretty Heaven that, without any sea to look
at! | couldn't live without my river. I've
always had it running by, running up OF
running down, coming from somewhere
going to somewhere, life and motion. I al
ways look out the first thing in the morning
to see if it's still there, and listen for it al
night And it makes two skies by night
one above and one below-with stars down
in the underworld; and then by day the
color, the changing light and color and the
pushing of the tide, taking you right intC